Why You?
by Wah-Keetcha
Summary: Eliot and Nate have a late night conversation after Eliot returns from watching the Marshall as he removed Randy from his abusive home.


If you only knew

Title: Why You?

Rating: T (swears)

Summary: Eliot and Nate have a late night conversation after Eliot returns from watching the Marshall as he removed Randy from his abusive home.

Author Note: So, that episode was awesome, waaay better than the Tap-out Job I think. I really want to see if this will be a recurring thing. (probably not since they have 4 other characters to explore, but hey, a fan girl can totally hope). So, yes I wrote down all my plot bunnies and will probably have more up concerning this episode. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about A Dangerous Man. By the way, the title? Yeah it totally sucks, so forgive my lack of creativity there. Onto the story!

**Why You? **

"What the hell man." Hardison snarls, his voice dipped low. Eliot rolls his eyes and instead of answering the hacker turns his attention to packing up the van with all the gear. The job had been completed successfully, with Hardison and Eliot wrapping up their end only moments before.

"Hey man, I'm talking to you." Hardison tries again as Eliot wordlessly turns away and bends down to grab another box, this one the monitor. Schooling his features into a blank expression Eliot lifts the light box, resisting the urge to groan as his hand cramps painfully. Putting the box atop of the seat in the back of the van Eliot backs away, trying to stretch the cramp out of his hand. Hardison, too preoccupied with his electronics doesn't notice as the hitting silently slips away.

"Ya know man, we could've gotten our asses busted just because you wanted to talk to that ki—well now that's just rude." Hardison growls to himself as he turns, finding the small parking area void of the hitter's presence, his annoyance towards the man growing even more.

"What's rude?" Nate asks, coming around the back side of the van now dressed in his regular clothes. Hardison shakes his head and gestures to where Eliot had just been standing.

"Eliot man, first he was distracted by some kid and wasn't listening to me, then he took out his ear bud and went off the radar. I don't _get_ him, oh and that freaky disappearing act has got to go, because that's just annoying." Hardison rattles off, giving the interior to the van another once over before slamming the doors shut, the keys held out for the mastermind to take. Nate plucks the keys from the hacker's hands and begins to move towards the driver's door when he looks back over at Hardison who is playing with his phone.

"Can you pull up the hospital security feed?" Nate asks distractedly and Hardison shoots him a questioning glance before nodding.

"Yeah I can, just as soon as we get out of here, I have most of it saved on my drives anyway. Why?" he asks, disappearing around the other side of the van, only to reappear at the passenger side. Nate gets in and slams the door before turning the engine over.

"I want to see what Eliot was doing when he had his ear piece out." He informs the hacker who nods, suddenly aware of the concerned expression on Nate's face as he backs out of the small parking lot. Hardison looks into the back but stops short, his eyebrow raising.

"Where are the girls?" he asks as Nate pulls out into traffic, his foot slamming down on the accelerator in an attempt to be a yellow light.

"They're stopping to get Chinese." He responds dully and Hardison nods, unable to stop the cab from falling into a worried silence.

*

The small 'after con' party had wrapped up a while ago; leaving Nate's rented condo pleasantly silent. Although the group of thieves have gotten better they still manage to leave the former agent's apartment in ruin after they leave, forcing the man to pick up before finally retiring for the night. Nate had just finished cleaning up the counter and setting aside the manila envelope with Eliot's name on it when the tell-tale sound of boots on the stairs alerts him to the hitter's return.

"It's open." He calls as the boots stop in front on his door. There is a pause in which Nate tosses the sponge back into the sink before Eliot slowly opens the door, his eyes narrowing against the glare of the apartment's lights. Nate takes in the fighter and the dark beanie pulled down over his forehead before picking up the manila envelope. Eliot's fierce gaze tracks the yellow paper for a moment before flicking to look at Nate, expression hardening.

He knows that Nate knows.

Eliot waits for Nate to make the first move, to say the first word and tries not to feel like a bad child being reprimanded by an adult. When the mastermind makes no move to either approach or talk the hitter shifts his weight, growing impatient.

"What do you want Nate?" he snaps, anger rising quickly. Although the worry for Randy has stopped twisting in his gut the hitter is still exhausted and hurting after the days events and just wants to head up to his own apartment. His hand cramps up again, making his fingers ache and twitch but Eliot schools himself not to let it show, not in front of Nate.

"I want to know what made you sidetrack from the con so you could threaten some guy in a stairwell." Nate responds evenly, his body relaxed and patient. It's something he's learned about the group of thieves, you can't _force_ them. Nate tried that once, pushed at Parker too hard and scared the lithe thief off for a few days. He learned how far he can push each of them, how far they are willing to flex before they refuse to go any further. Out of them all Eliot is the most unwilling, he doesn't respond to being forced and often responds by pushing back, violently and quickly.

So he waits.

Nate studies the fighter's posture, finding the confident set of his shoulders a bit hunched and his vibrant and aware eyes shadowed with exhaustion but that calculating edge is still there, the instincts screaming behind the icy blue barrier. When Eliot makes no move to answer his question Nate pushes a little bit more, watching as the man's eyes flash hotly.

"You put us all in jeopardy by doing that Eliot, our cover would have been blow because you allowed yourself to be foolishly sidetracked by what? What would make you put us all at risk?" The flash within those shockingly blue eyes tell the mastermind he's hit a nerve within the specialist. Eliot opens his mouth but then closes it, his gaze turning cold and hard as he responds.

"You had it taken care of. It didn't take me that long to get my point across, I was back to running my part of the job. No harm done." He defends tiredly and Nate notices the odd way he's holding his hand, too stiffly by his side. Nate gives up on getting information from the man and quickly approaches, alarmed that one of the thieves had been injured. Eliot backs away a step before swinging his arm in a defensive action, his blue eyes narrowed slightly. Nate stops and holds up his hands, his own worry causing him to forget who he was dealing with.

"What's wrong with your hand?" he asks, wanting to calm the fighter down. Eliot's hard stare lingers for a moment more before he relaxes slightly, bringing his injured hand away from his side.

"It's cramping, that's all. No big deal." He says, trying to brush off the injury but Nate only frowns; knowing that Eliot can take care of himself does little to lessen his worry about the younger man's welfare. Instead of pushing he make a motion for the hitter to follow and wordlessly heads for the freezer, taking out one of the numerous icepacks Eliot had left him. Eliot sits at the bar, holding his aching hand. Wordlessly he takes the offered ice pack and hisses as the cool compress makes contact with his cramped muscles. Nate leans back against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches the specialist.

"The guy was slapping his kid around, the bruises were barely a week old Nate and that fucker broke the kids arm. Someone had to say something, do something." Eliot states, his words edged with a menacing growl. Nate closes his eyes for a moment, having watched the video of Eliot confronting the burly man in the stairwell, he had been a little worried when the lithe man thrust the heavier one over the handrail but was pleased with the hitter's self control.

"You could have let someone else handle it." Nate states and watches as Eliot drums his fingers of his good hand on the bar top, shaking his head.

"You don't understand. That bastard knew the local police that kid had no place to turn, no one to turn to for help." Eliot argues back softly, adjusting the ice on his injured hand.

"But why you Eliot?" Nate asks, wishing for once that Eliot would stop being so cryptic. Nate knew bits and pieces of Eliot's background and has made a few assumptions about the gaps in his history. Eliot is silent for a few minutes, the sound of the ticking clock impossibly loud when finally he answers.

"I've been there, having to lie while _he_ stood by and make excuses about my 'accidents'. I had no one to go to either and I guess in some way I saw myself in Randy." He admits almost in a whisper, his head down and eyes averted. Nate stands and simply listens, knowing there is more to the situation.

"I guess I'm kind of like Parker when it comes to kids, their stories hit a little too close to home… I didn't want to see Randy become like me Nate, something had to be done and I was in the position to do _something_." He growls out the words and Nate can see the anger bristling just under the surface. Nate nods, having had the reason for Eliot's time in foster care explained.

"Again, why you Eliot? Dressed as you were you could have easily reported it to the staff or someone else. Why did _you_ have to do it?" Nate asks again and this time Eliot's eyes darken a degree, becoming frigid.

"I guess I just wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't like all those other people I saw as a kid, those people who would walk by with knowing looks and not do a damned thing. I couldn't do that Nate, just like you couldn't leave that girl alone while he father was in the hospital, like Parker couldn't leave those kids in Belgrade. I don't know Nate, I couldn't just walk by and pretend I _didn't see_." He says and then lets off a bitter laugh.

"I can beat down men, make them bleed and feel pain. I've crushed windpipes and maimed people, stolen dead bodies and impersonated people of great influence without even a second thought, but some kid beaten and abused in the care of the abuser is enough to pull me right up. Gotta say, I have some twisted up morals." He laughs, shaking his head. Nate gazes steadily at the young man, seeing him in a new light.

"You aren't effected by those things Eliot, the maiming and the beating because something hardened you to the fact that it's something you _have_ to do. Children are innocent I guess…" Nate trails off as the specialist stands and grabs his take of the money.

"Thanks for the ice pack." He says, effectively putting an end to the conversation. He's a mystery most of the time, the silent muscle in the group. Eliot goes along pretty easily with any plan Nate comes up with, playing his part with minimal problems.

"You may not think it Eliot, but you are a good person." Nate calls softly after the hitter. The heel strikes pause for a moment and his voice carries back to the mastermind.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that." The door to his apartment closes and Nate leans his head back, listening to Eliot's footfalls moving down the hallway.

End.

Author Note: drop me a comment/review If you deem this story worthy of it. Thanks for reading!


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